


Another Damn Utility Closet

by mercy_angel_09



Series: Stuck in a Closet With You [3]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: (because it's one of my fave tropes shhh don't judge), Adrien Agreste's talented fingers, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Making out in a closet, Mentions of Masturbation, Romance, Trump corpse toboggan to hell, adult type touching, also Plagg is fucking useless as usual, but not that kind of talented, read and you'll figure it out, sexually frustrated young adults, sin - Freeform, sinning and winning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 03:08:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6836563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercy_angel_09/pseuds/mercy_angel_09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ladybug and Chat Noir are trapped in a utility closet.</p>
<p>Again.</p>
<p>At least they know who the other is. <strike>Woohoo!</strike></p>
<p>Follow up to "That Thing You Do" and "Doing That Thing You Do."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Damn Utility Closet

**Author's Note:**

> This was started...well, roughly around the time The Debacle went down. I'll let y'all wonder about my exact motivations for writing this.
> 
> I hate to admit it, but I think I'll have to wave the white flag on the smutty follow up to "That Thing You Do." I realized that I hadn't exactly specified their ages, and while I'm a big fan of smut, I'm not exactly comfortable writing these two as fifteen year olds doing those kinds of things, so the trilogy is "That Thing You Do" followed by "Doing That Thing You Do" followed by "Another Damn Utility Closet." I will probably make these an official series. At some point.

****Ladybug pounds against the door, then jiggles the handle, and then sighs as she rests her forehead against the door.

“We’re stuck,” she announces dryly. She looks over her shoulder to see her partner’s shit eating grin. “This isn’t funny, _chaton_.”

“For you, maybe, but I’m about to bust a gut over here,” Chat says, mirth bubbling in his voice.

“Great, I need to restring my violin,” Ladybug mutters.

“Meow-ch!” Chat says, eyes wide and a hand pressed against his chest in mock affront. “C’mon, it’s not all bad, is it? Okay, yes, we’ve already used Cataclysm and Lucky Charm so we are in a bit of a jam…but…”

Glancing at her partner, Ladybug shrugs. “I’m gonna try something. Tikki, release the transformation.”

Her kwami obliges, hovering in front of her charge. “What do you need, Marinette?”

“See if you can unlock the door,” Marinette instructs.

Chat Noir gives his partner a look. “And how did you know your kwami could do that?” he asks.

“Err, it’s a long story, I’ll tell you later,” Marinette says as her face flushes. Adrien really doesn’t need to hear about that time she pinched his phone to erase an embarrassing voicemail. Ever.

“I look forward to it, my Lady,” Chat says, waggling his eyebrows – granted you could see them through his mask.

Tikki zips through the door, and moment later she zips back into the storage closet. “Sorry Marinette, there’s nothing I can do,” the kwami says. “Super-Moustache put a chair in front of the door. Plagg and I are too small to move it.”

“He Jagged Stoned us!” Chat says with a pout.

“Great, so I guess we’re stuck here,” Marinette sighs as she slumps down to sit on the floor.

“It could be worse,” Chat says as he sits down next to her. “We could not know who the other one was, waiting in a fully lit closet for our transformations to wear off.”

“I suppose this is better than the last one,” Marinette says with a small smile. Chat grins back as his transformation finally wears out. Plagg flops on the floor.

“I’m so tired, I’m going to sleep for eternity,” he whines.

“Then I guess you’re too tired for this wedge of camembert that I have in my purse,” Marinette says innocently as she fishes said cheese out of said purse.

“I’m not that tired…” Plagg says, perking up at the mention of his favorite cheese. Adrien can only roll his eyes at his kwami’s rather predictable behavior.

As Tikki nibbles a cookie and Plagg inhales his cheese, Marinette leans her head against Adrien’s shoulder. “It’s probably a good thing we’re not claustrophobic.”

“That would be a cat-atsrophe,” Adrien puns, and he grunts when Marinette’s elbow collides with his side. “Sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

“You’re right, I’m not,” he grins as he leans closer to her. “Just like I’m not sorry for this.”

The kiss is slow and gentle, Adrien taking his time to caress Marinette’s lips with his own. She lets out a little sigh of contentment as she angles herself to deepen the kiss. Yes, they’re trapped in a closet while there’s an akuma running around (after Chloe, no less), but they rarely get time alone to be a couple. Between Marinette’s workload at ESMOD and Adrien’s course work for his physics degree, not to mention their work as Ladybug and Chat Noir, finding time to just be a couple was difficult.

Therefore they weren’t above taking any and all time they could get. Even if that means that Marinette is straddling Adrien as he leans against the door in the storage closet behind the front desk in The Grand Paris Hotel.

Adrien growls as he hastily removes Marinette’s shirt, his hands roving over the exposed skin. He leans down and presses a series of kisses along her collar bones. She responds with a breathy sigh as she slides her fingers through his hair. She loves the feel of him, the hard planes of muscle strengthened from years of fencing and hopping across the roofs of Paris. Slowly she grinds her hips against his, relishing the sensation of his hardness beneath her.

Marinette leans forward and kisses Adrien’s neck, alternating between soft pecks, licks, and sucking on the sensitive skin. Adrien hisses as she gently sucks on his pulse point before continuing up to his earlobe. Her teeth graze the lobe before she licks along the shell, causing Adrien to shudder.

Not to be outdone, Adrien lifts Marinette’s wrist to his mouth. He presses a soft kiss to the underside of her wrist along her pulse point, and then slowly kisses his way up her arm, along her shoulder, and to her neck. He feathers kisses along her jaw before pulling her mouth against his in a searing kiss as his tongue slides against hers. It’s a dance they’ve perfected in a relatively short amount of time, but that doesn’t decrease the satisfaction. His hands massage her breasts through the lacy fabric of her bra, fingers occasionally tweaking the stiffened peaks beneath.

Moaning, Marinette breaks the kiss and arches into Adrien’s caresses. She’s not surprised by the way Adrien’s fingers play against her skin, the boy is a talented pianist after all. And right now he’s playing her like a grand piano that’s center stage at the Palais Garnier. Sweet merciful heaven.

Everything comes to a screeching halt, however, the second Adrien’s talented fingers start fumbling with the button on her jeans. Marinette rears back, the haze of lust that had been consuming her suddenly gone. Green eyes wide, Adrien searches her face for a clue as to what he did wrong.

“Wait,” she says, grabbing his wrists and pushing his hands to the sides of his body.

With a smirk, he undulates his hips under her, and Marinette tries to swallow the moan. “Stop it, you stupid cat,” she says through clenched teeth.

“Stop what?” he asks with a smirk as he once again rolls his hips against hers.

“There’s still an akuma out there, for one,” Marinette says as she lifts herself to stand on her knees, keeping their hips apart. Adrien blinks up at her with a far too innocent expression. “You did call me here because there’s an akuma, right? I didn’t hallucinate the purple guy with the cartoonishly large moustache, _right_?”

Moment thoroughly ruined, Adrien sighs. “Yes, there’s an akuma,” he says. “Chloe was, well, Chloe and did something that upset the concierge and now he’s running around as Super Moustache, putting mustaches on people to make them his followers. Zombies. Servants? He’s basically making them do his bidding, be at his beck and call and he especially wants Chloe. Something about delicious ironies.”

“I’m sure Tikki and Plagg are recharged. We can transform and get out of here,” Marinette reasons. “And save Chloe’s ungrateful ass. Again.”

“But then I’m wasting Cataclysm and I have to let Plagg recharge again,” Adrien whines. “It’s better for all of us to just wait until someone finds us.”

She gapes at him. “I thought you were all gung-ho to get into this superhero business, and now you want to avoid it?”

Adrien wrests one of his arms free from Marinette’s now slack grip and snaps her bra strap. “Well, it doesn’t hurt that the view in here is pretty nice.”

Marinette turns to where Plagg and Tikki are sitting on a shelf, and addresses the black kwami. “Tell your wielder to get off his ass and help save the city.”

Plagg smirks. “Nah, I think we’re good in here.”

Next to him, Tikki facepalms.

Leaning down, Marinette smirks when Adrien’s shivers at the sensation of her breath ghosting across his ear. “Listen to me, and listen to me good, _chaton_ ,” she murmurs. “You will get us out of this closet, or you and I will have a very strict no kissing and no hugging policy for the next six months.”

Adrien’s eyes widen. “You wouldn’t!”

One eyebrow arches up as Marinette sits back up on her knees. “Wouldn’t I?”

“I hope you know that this is your fault,” he pouts. “We haven’t had any time to ourselves since the popsicle incident.” He glares at her. “You remember the popsicle incident?”

Now it’s Marinette’s turn to look abashed. “I remember,” she mumbles.

“Well let’s just say the lack of alone time for the two of us is starting to get to me,” Adrien says with a pointed look. Shortly after they finished lycee, Adrien had been whisked away by his father to the United States to oversee the efforts of the Agreste label’s American offices. By the time he got back to France it had been time to start at university, so the only time they’d seen each other was hunting down Hawkmoth’s akuma. Because after four years he still wasn’t done. (Or anywhere to be found – but that’s an entirely different matter.)

Plagg feels like this is his moment to add to the conversation. “Yeah, he can’t keep his hands off his-“

“Plagg!” Adrien is now bright red. The last thing his girlfriend needs to hear is about his masturbatory habits.

Marinette cocks her head and gives her boyfriend a once over. “Aww, my poor, sexually frustrated kitty.”

“And what about you?” Adrien asks. “You can’t tell me that women don’t-“

“Never said I didn’t,” Marinette cuts him off. She stands and starts hunting around for her clothes.

“Anyway, I was just…taking advantage of a golden opportunity. Is that so wrong?” Adrien asks as he watches Marinette pull her shirt on.

“Only when said golden opportunity comes at a civilian’s safety. Even if said civilian is Chloe Bourgeois,” Marinette says, tossing an acid look over her shoulder.

Adrien looks appropriately cowed. “Fine,” he sighs.

“Anyway,” Marinette says as she adjusts her clothing, “I suppose I’ll give you a pass on using Cataclysm to get out of here, if only because Plagg managed to eat all of the cheese in my purse and I know you don’t have any on you right now. We also shouldn’t raid the fridge of the hotel’s restaurant without permission to get Plagg back into fighting condition so we’ll just have to wait for someone to find us.”

“At least with the chair blocking the door, someone will investigate,” Adrien says. “So…while we’re waiting can we at least make out? I promise to keep the groping to a minimum.”

Marinette rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “Sure, _chaton_. I suppose kissing with minimal groping is acceptable.”

By the time a hotel maintenance worker finds them, Adrien and Marinette are just sitting on the floor, cuddling. “You kids okay?” he asks them, not even bothering to ask how they got in the closet in the first place.

Standing and stretching, Marinette nods. “We figured someone would be by eventually.”

“Good thing you didn’t panic, then,” the man says as he scratches at his stubbly cheek. “At any rate, you’ll want to hurry home, and avoid the Trocadero. The akuma’s there.”

Both Adrien and Marinette nod. “Yes, we’ll do that,” Adrien says. He grabs Marinette’s hand and tugs her towards the door of the Grand Paris Hotel.

The second fight against Super-Moustache goes much better than the first one, and soon the city is put back to rights. In the privacy of Marinette’s room, Ladybug and Chat Noir transform back and then quickly separate to opposite sides. The kwami go off in search of snacks, leaving their charges eyeing each other and trying to determine what the next step is.

“We should go on a date,” Adrien announces. “I can get Nathalie to rearrange my schedule, and you can take a night off from homework.”

“A date…would be good,” Marinette says with a slight blush. Of course, that’s because she’s thinking about what could happen _after_ the date.

“Good,” Adrien says with a grin. “Good. A date would be…good.”

“Maybe even great,” Marinette adds.

“Real great.”

With that mattered settled, the two young adults gravitate towards each other to finish what they started in that damn utility closet. Finally.  



End file.
